Pride and Poltergeists

  The Association of Netherworld Creatures.

  Regret the moment they defied us. That was the moment we swooped in after the dust settled, assuming the mantle of leadership as if it were a shiny penny we picked up in the street.

  Smile, smile, smile. “Yes, Mother.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sam

  We drove for a really long time in stony silence. Everybody was patiently waiting for Dagan or me to tell Judy when to turn. The car was cramped, and the general air of oh fuck, we’re almost out of time hung over us like a black cloud, ominous and smothering.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked after a while—but before Casey could answer, I added, “‘Kill the Darkness’ is more of a goal than a true plan.”

  Casey smiled weakly and looked at Rowena. She was staring out the window, resting her chin in her hand.

  “Rowena can do things,” he said quietly, “if she needs to. Hopefully, we’ll be able to sneak in, eliminate the Darkness, and sneak out again without any problem. But if we can’t … or if it’s too heavily guarded, or too many civilians, or we just straight up can’t find a way in … then we’ll send for her.” He grimaced. “God willing, it won’t come to that. It’s …”

  “Painful,” I said. I could only imagine. Whatever lived in Rowena must have given her its sight, and most likely by accident. Whether she were connected to an entity in a far-off parallel or it was physically bound to her body, calling on it wouldn’t be pleasant. Especially if she asked it to do something particularly taxing—like turning her invisible so she could sneak into a heavily guarded enemy compound without being detected. The kind of unpleasant that having your skin sheared off your muscles might be compared to.

  I’d seen somebody do it once, a long time ago. He called on an old god he was once connected to, asking it to manipulate something outside his body, something in the physical plane, although it didn’t have a direct connection with it. It tried and failed. There were lots of screams, and lots of blood. Way too much blood.

  “Okay,” I said. “So we get there.”

  “We see how well the place is guarded,” Casey said. “Judy and Rowena can look for a way in. You can help us detect any unfriendly magic, wards, traps, or other things. If we can find an easy way in, Marcus will enter first, quiet as a mouse. He’ll stay in contact and locate the Darkness. If Marcus has an opportunity, he’ll have to take it. If he doesn’t, he’ll tell us where he is and one of us will go after him, probably Judy or me. If we can’t find a way in, and not too many people are onsite, Kent can make us an entrance. And if all else fails, Rowena can summon her demon friend from wherever he is and tell him to raze the whole place to the ground. Or something.”

  Rowena sighed. “He’s not a demon,” she said. “And he doesn’t raze things to the ground unless you ask him very nicely.”

  Casey grimaced. “Well, hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

  “Hopefully,” I said, thinking of every time Dulcie and I got thrown into the fray with no plan, no resources, no time, and no real training. That time Dulcie managed to deal with a dreamstalker in his own domain with literally no ephemeral backup. Another was when we had to go to war with no concept of how to maneuver a thousand-man army. And once, lacking even three-tenths of a plan, Dulcie broke into Melchior’s house anyway, going through a window and almost getting herself killed. Trey got killed instead … Yes, I was fairly convinced that a simple “just follow my lead” is the token recipe for miscommunication catastrophe a la death.

  So, based on my professional track record, I didn’t have a lot of faith in the strategy of just getting there and seeing how it goes. It didn’t sound like that’s what Casey intended to do, but I didn’t know, since he seemed so calm about it. And so certain that everything would work itself out for the better that he didn’t need to worry.

  He sounded like Dulcie. The voice she used when she knew she made a really stupid decision to save somebody’s ass and even though she knew how stupid it was, she insisted on sticking to it with everything she had.

  “Sam, I know it sounds contrived,” Casey began, “but we’re not just a bunch of gun-hauling dumbasses with badges! We’re trained professionals. We were sent here for a reason. I promise.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m just … I’m sorry, it’s a huge house. And it wasn’t heavily guarded on the outside, from what I could see, but acres and acres of forest lie behind it, and there could be anything lurking in there.” And I fear you might try to do something heroic and stupid.

  “We’re almost there,” said Dagan. “Ten minutes, tops.”

  “Great,” I said. “Okay. Okay. We’ll be fine.” I sighed. “But.”

  Casey nodded. “Dulcie.”

  “Yeah. I know,” I said, before he could stop me, “I know it might … get bad. I know that.” I didn’t want to think about it though, knowing it was a very real possibility. “You’ll do what you can, but if you can’t…”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I promise we’ll try.”

  I wanted to protest and scream something in Dulcie’s defense, but I couldn’t figure out what to say. Beg for us to hesitate long enough for Dulcie to miraculously pull herself out of it? Offer her cookies and ice cream and a trauma blanket in the hopes that they would be enough to stop her from blasting us into oblivion? My mouth hung open, full of words, but I was unable to sort through any of them.

  They would try. He would try. But it might not be enough. I couldn’t think any other thoughts beyond that. Before Casey could say anything, Judy slammed hard on the brakes and swung the car off the road into a tight mesh of trees, jarring everyone forward.

  “What the fuck, Judy?” Casey yelled.

  “Everybody keep low,” she whispered, sliding her gun from its holster.

  “Why?” I asked, ducking down.

  “Big, scary, government-type vehicle at twelve o’clock.” She pointed with one finger, keeping her hands on the wheel. “Hang tight, it … huh … They aren’t going very fast.” She peered forward curiously, squinting in the dark.

  The dreaded thought that we were too late crossed my mind—and I worried that this car was just the beginning of a long, evil convoy, the parade of monsters marching blindly towards the end of the world. What if this were the long drive leading us to wherever the Darkness intended us to go next? Perhaps we were ignorantly following his grand scheme without ever intending to.

  At the very least, it was most likely a patrol vehicle filled with some random werewolves and trolls. They were packed tightly into a big, black something-or-other, watching for intruders like us. Their semiautomatic weapons probably filled to bursting with dragon’s blood bullets.

  I peeked up. The SUV was meandering down the gravel path, slowly, patiently—or maybe at the mercy of a paranoid driver. No other cars were crawling along behind them—so we were alone, as far as I could tell. The SUV curled into the edge of the road, and stopped. The driver door opened slowly, along with the back passenger door. Three shadows tumbled out—one of them twitching his nose like he’d caught a scent.

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered. If they were human, there was a good chance they couldn’t see us—but when I saw the one doing the sniffing, I had to think that wasn’t the case. Whatever he thought he smelled was dim enough that he had to search for it, and get out of the car to hunt it down. Muffled voices drifted towards us, arguing, and someone was growing irritated, insisting that there was something there, just give him a second.

  “Three outside,” Judy whispered. “No more than two in the car. We can take ’em.”

  I ducked back down. There was a soft rustling as everyone in the car went for their weapons. We sat silent, taut, still, and waited.

  “Um. You don’t … know them, do you?” Judy asked me, pointing to the shadows.

  “I doubt it, probably not,” I answered with a shrug. Everyone I knew in the Netherworld worked for the ANC, and none of them had any reason to ever be this far out into the country
. “Why?”

  “Because the shirtless guy is waving at us.”

  “What?! Does he have a gun?” I asked as I peered into the dark, trying to see what Judy was seeing.

  “Nope. Just … a shirtless guy,” she answered.

  “What’s he doing?” Casey asked. “I can’t see him.”

  “He’s off to the right of the road, cloaked in the dark,” Judy answered. “He’s walking this way. Just … waving.”

  “At what?” I asked. “Us?” If we’d been seen, why weren’t we being shot at? Unless maybe this wasn’t one of the Darkness’s people?

  “I guess not?” Judy asked more than said. “He’s not attacking, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I strained harder to see whatever Judy could see. Two shadows stood beside their own vehicle, aiming at the third, and their postures suggesting confusion. The one who kept waving at us wandered closer, until I could see dark hair, tannish skin … but I couldn’t make out much more … He was just waving, like he was desperately trying to get our attention … I reached over Casey and opened his door, popping my head out, and hoping to see better.

  The man in front of us stopped short and brought his hands to his mouth, calling, “Sam?”

  I froze, and my stomach felt like it was impaled by a glacier. “Knight?” I whispered. I couldn’t say it any louder.

  “No fucking way,” Casey said with a laugh of disbelief.

  “Get out of the car,” I said. Nobody moved. “Get out of the car! Come on, move!”

  Casey pushed the door open all the way and I barreled out, practically crawling over him, before I tackled Knight in the most grasping hug I could manage, squeezing him so tightly that I worried I might break his ribs—I couldn’t, of course, since he was built like a Sherman tank, but I continued squeezing him as hard as my little bird arms could manage. I tackled him too, and he stumbled.

  “Knight!” I started crying.

  “Fuck! It’s good to see you,” he said, hugging me back, just as hard.

  I paused. “We thought … I thought …” And then I started blubbering like an idiot. Knight hugged me again, and I cried into his shoulder, remembering somewhere in the back of my head that Knight was my boss and this was wildly unprofessional …

  “I’m okay,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m okay, Sam.”

  “Told you I could smell her,” one of the shadows said. Bram.

  “Yes, and we’re all so proud of you,” said the other. A voice I didn’t recognize that was deep, old, and dusty.

  “What are you doing here?” Knight asked. “How did you even get here?”

  “We, um.” I stepped away abruptly, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. “I was …” I stopped. “Knight, you’re … um.” I blinked at him, my eyes finally adjusting to the dark. Naked, I thought. And I couldn’t look away. Dulcie always said he was well hung but … hot damn!

  “Oh, yeah,” he answered, blushing furiously. He looked around for a minute, no doubt seeking a way to cover himself. Eventually, he dove back into the SUV and retrieved a black briefcase, which he modestly held over his substantial friend. “Forgot. Sorry, Sam.”

  “You’re, uh … fine, I guess?” It couldn’t be angry at him for being naked … It probably wasn’t his choice, but it felt weird. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “Knight,” Casey said behind me, “I’ll be damned. Thought you were dead.”

  Knight stiffened. “Ah, hell. Casey James?”

  Casey came forward, waving and smiling. “Nice to see you too?”

  Knight hesitated, sighed, and relaxed, but with visible effort. “Do I want to know what you’re doing here?”

  “Not really,” said Casey. “Dude, are you …” he chuckled. “Are you … naked?”

  Knight just nodded. “Yeah. Long story.”

  “Where were you?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “Meg,” Knight answered. “Meg is the Darkness. She’s a vampire.”

  “The Darkness is a woman?” Casey asked, shocked.

  “If you want to call Meg a woman,” Bram responded icily.

  “Bram tracked Dulcie to her base and we … well, obviously, it didn’t go well,” Knight finished as he looked back at Bram, as if he were waiting for him to add something. Bram sighed and looked away.

  “The Darkness, apparently, is also my maker,” Bram said.

  “Your maker?” I repeated—but I wasn’t as concerned with the Darkness’s connection to Bram so much as how substantially that increased her age. Bram was centuries old, a Master Vampire, and his abilities had advanced to insane degrees by the final change in his body. The part of his human self that hadn’t quite begun calcifying became even more powerful.

  The older a vampire got, the further from his humanity he was separated, and consequently, the more magic he could contain. I guessed that Meg, Bram’s maker, had to be a hundred or more years older than he was. Why? Because vampires cannot create any offspring in their first immortal century. Thus, Meg had to be even older, putting her leagues ahead of Bram, lightyears even … I supposed that would explain how she’d managed to keep herself hidden all this time, even from her own people.

  “Ah,” I said at last, looking to the left of Bram. A tall, dark, strangely calm person was standing with his hands in the pockets of a black suit coat. His skin was as pale as fogged glass, and he stooped and slouched, a man hundreds of years past caring about his sloping posture. “And this is?” I was almost afraid to ask.

  “Meg’s maker, Ezra Grant,” Knight answered. “He’s with us.”

  “Meg’s maker …” I repeated. That made Ezra the grand-sire of Bram—and, at a guess, close to a thousand years old. “Oh. Um. Hi?”

  Ezra smiled sadly at me. “Greetings, Ms. White. I am sorry for this,” he said. “Truly.”

  Dagan stepped forward, scowling. “Madam White, you saw this as well, so correct me if I’m wrong, but the household of the Darkness was extremely well guarded inside,” he ground out, throwing his arms across his chest. Then he glared at Knight. “How did you manage to escape with your conspicuously naked friend?”

  “Knight’s on our side, Dagan,” I said underneath my breath, dismissing Dagan’s accusatory tone.

  “Dagan?” Knight asked, baffled as he turned to face me. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “Pleasure to see you too,” Dagan managed. “Bram, I trust you are well?”

  “Dagan? If you would kindly … do me an enormous favor …” Bram started, “and throw yourself into … the nearest active volcano …”

  “Sam, what the hell is he doing here?” Knight demanded again, his eyes aflame.

  “I am helping,” Dagan responded, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “For your information, this jolly party would have gotten nowhere without me.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted to Knight with a frown. His frown drooped even deeper.

  “And the question still stands,” Dagan continued. “How did you get out?”

  “Yeah, I’d kind of like to know that myself,” I added.

  Knight and Bram eyed each other. Knight coughed and looked away. Bram crossed his arms, and his eyes turned darkish brown.

  “We managed,” Bram said at last. Behind him, Ezra chuckled.

  “That’s it?” I asked, clearly unimpressed. “That’s not it.”

  “Yes, I’d love to hear the story,” said Dagan. Knight’s hands curled into fists.

  I suppressed a groan. “Dagan. Please.”

  Dagan held up his hands and took a step back. “Apologies all around. Proceed.”

  Knight shot Dagan a glare before turning to me. “We were looking for Dulcie. Bram tracked her blood to the place down the road and we broke into the house …” He grimaced. “It was too easy, and we should have known. We went upstairs and found Dulcie with Meg, but she was … different. Wrong, she was in some kind of trance … She didn’t recognize Bram, or me. Then at point-blank, Sam, she shot me! And she didn’t even blink!”

>   “Shit!” I said. Sounds about right. “Yeah, um … I ran into her too. She …”

  How do I even say this? How do you tell your boss his girlfriend was possessed by a homicidal maniac? And she not only killed his employees, but also tried to kill you? She left a whole city in shambles, with burnt-out buildings that folded in on themselves like waterlogged origami cranes.

  “Sorry if we thwarted your rescue,” Bram started before Knight could ask me to finish my sentence. “But it was getting rather stuffy in there.” He sounded out of breath.

  Then I noticed for the first time how weird he looked. How slowly he was speaking. Vampire faces are frozen forever, and totally incapable of the physical changes that occur when you haven’t gotten enough sleep. But Bram was swaying on his feet, with his eyes half closed. And staggering whenever he moved, like he was half-drunk. That was impossible, and even if he did drink something, he lacked the metabolic process that pumps the alcohol into his system. Hell, he didn’t have a system to pump it into. He could not be out of breath either, for that matter.

  “Are you okay, Bram?” I asked, taking a step forward. Not that I cared, but if he was about to pass out, we needed to know.

  “I have had an interesting week,” he said simply.

  “Interesting?” I asked. Interesting didn’t even begin to cover my week, and I could only assume it didn’t accurately describe his either.

  “Meg tried to drain him again,” Knight answered. Bram shot him a look—probably not a point of pride for the illustrious Master Vampire. “And she damn near succeeded,” Knight added, probably to rub it in.

  “Again?” I asked—I didn’t know she’d tried it already. “Shit, Bram. Maybe you should … I don’t know, sit down?”

  Bram snorted. “I will be fine. We have … more important things to do … than to fuss over me.”

  “So, let me guess,” Knight started. “You all were on your way over here to save us?” He probably guessed correctly that we were taking the backroad to the mansion.

  “The plan was to kill the Darkness and, hopefully, free Dulcie from whatever spell she was under,” Casey answered. “But I’m sure your name would have come up eventually.”